break me down, build me up (gods be gentle)
by Screaming Faeries
Summary: Hermione never wanted to be a lady, she was happy with her civilian life. But when the royal family had an accident in Hermione's village, she found herself in the middle of a life she never expected. Medieval!AU / QLFC Round 9


**Written For:**

\- QLFC / Round 9: Captain - Gear Up/Golden Snitch: Write about a witch or wizard displaying undying loyalty to someone.

\- Granger Danger Challenge: Hermione/Viktor, prompt: a Proposal

Thanks to Sam, Sophy and Krissy for beta-ing!

 **Word Count:** 1,774

* * *

Lady Hermione hated her position among the royal family.

She had never had any interest in marrying a lord or gentleman from a noble house. All she wanted to do was follow in her parents' footsteps, who were renowned healers within the kingdom.

After the Prince of England had fallen off of his horse during the royal tour of the kingdom, the Granger healers became even more acclaimed. When the gash on Draco Malfoy's leg became infected and his life was threatened by blood poisoning, they were able to save him. Jean Granger used her limited apothecary supplies to mix a potion to ease his pain and bring his fever down; Wendell Granger washed and drained the wound daily, before stitching it with durable thread; and Hermione Granger poured over the medical books that their family owned, pointing out all of the symptoms of blood poisoning that would occur before Prince Draco began to show them.

The King and Queen were indebted to the Grangers for saving their only son and Heir's life, as much as they disdained the idea of owing such a debt to lowly members of their kingdom. However, many citizens had witnessed the Grangers rescue the young Prince, and the debt had to be paid.

King Lucius gave the Grangers a patch of land that was big enough for a large family house to be built and room enough for farmland, along with a hearty sum of gold that would allow them to see out their days in comfort. The King thought that this was more than a suitable repayment, but Queen Narcissa apparently held more value over her son's life than land and gold.

She took an interest in Hermione, the Grangers' only daughter. She promised that, should Hermione return to the capital city with them, the queen would make a lady of Hermione and ensure that she was married into a noble family.

Her parents were thrilled with the idea—having their daughter be welcomed into the aristocratic society was more than they could ever hope for Hermione's future. Even though Hermione wanted nothing more than to remain at home in the village, she knew better than to refuse such an enormous offer, from the Queen of all people. So, she blinked back tears and kissed her parents goodbye, then climbed inside the Queen's carriage with nothing but the clothes on her back, ready to take the three day journey to the capital.

oOo

That had been two years ago, and Hermione hadn't returned to her home village or seen her parents since. Queen Narcissa had fulfilled her promise and made a proper lady of the Healers' daughter. She was given chambers in the palace that were bigger than her family home, and an entourage of handmaids to tame her hair, choose her clothes, and bring her meals. A whole wardrobe of intricately embroidered dresses had been presented to her, outfits that she was expected to wear to attend the royal court and listen to the King speak to his advisors.

It wasn't the most entertaining way Hermione could spend her afternoons—she would much rather hole up inside the palace library, where she could pour over more books than she'd ever seen in her life. But Queen Narcissa insisted that attending court would help Hermione learn more about how life worked amongst nobles.

When the time came for Hermione to be betrothed, she thought for one dreadful moment that she would find herself engaged to the Prince himself—but even Narcissa's generosity wouldn't extend to making a peasant girl the future Queen of England. Hermione was probably the only girl in the realm to be thankful for that.

Prince Draco was handsome; she couldn't deny that. He had chips of blue ice for eyes and his father's silver-blond hair, but Hermione was sure there was something much more sinister lurking behind his leering smirk. He didn't scare Hermione, as much as he would like to think he did, but she was rightly wary of him.

Instead, Hermione was promised to the youngest son of House Weasley, the announcement of which earned a rumble of sniggers through court. Hermione later learned that the Weasleys were indeed a noble family, but they were viewed as an embarrassment amongst the nobles. They spent far too much time with the poor, choosing to squander the small amount of gold they earned on feeding the sick and unwealthy. Many people thought that was ridiculous, but Hermione found it admirable.

Originally, Hermione didn't think that marrying the Weasley boy would be a bad thing. They were kind, considerable, and exceptionally good people.

But no matter how much she tried, Hermione just couldn't will herself to fall in love with Ronald Weasley. There was someone else in the way.

oOo

Sir Viktor Krum was a knight and a sworn protector of the royal family. He jousted in front of the King in his spare time and had never lost a single tournament. He was dark-eyed and brooding, with burly shoulders and an unreadable face, and Lady Hermione had never met anyone like him before in her life.

When he was first assigned to guard her while she walked through the streets of the capital city, Hermione didn't think much of him. He hardly spoke two words to her, and his stoic expression made her a little nervous. But when reason arose for him to begin protecting her, she started to warm up to him.

It was his duty to defend her with his life, but he didn't have to rise to the petty insults and taunts that were jeered from the crowds of civilians. Normally, childish comments didn't infuriate Hermione, but one such remark about her hair left her with conflicted emotions.

The common people didn't seem to realise—or care—that Hermione was one of them. No matter how many pretty dresses they clothed her in, it wouldn't change who she really was: a commoner. She sat on a bench in the palace gardens after Viktor had ushered her back to safety and fought back the urge to cry. The sting of rejection hurt much more than the taunting, but Viktor didn't really understand the reason that she was so upset.

He knelt down in front of her and took a flyaway lock of her hair between his fingers. "You should never try to tame a vild thing," he said gruffly in his thick, Scandinavian accent. "Especially ven the vild thing is so beautiful."

The tears that had been threatening to fall spilled down her cheeks. It was the nicest thing anyone had said to her since she had arrived at the capital.

oOo

It only took a few months of time spent with Viktor in secret for Hermione to decide that she couldn't marry Ron.

She knew that he wouldn't object. It was clear to Hermione that he had no romantic interest in her either. She had seen him leave the family home and sneak down to the slums, where he would visit a small brothel. However, it wasn't for the reasons one might suspect - though Hermione did originally suspect as much.

He was in love with the brothel madam, a woman with thick blonde hair by the name of Lavender, and she was madly in love with him, too. But their relationship would never be accepted by the noble circle that Ron was part of, no matter how lenient and accepting the Weasley family were.

It was his love for Lavender that spurred Hermione to approach the King and Queen with her request. She wasn't just doing it for herself, after all.

She waited until court had nearly adjourned before stepping in front of the throne.

"Lady Hermione, betrothed to Ronald of House Weasley," the announcement rang out.

King Lucius rested his bored, pale eyes on Hermione. "My Lady?" he purred in question.

"Your grace," Hermione knelt, focusing on the King's feet. "I would like to request that my betrothal be…" she paused, searching for the right word. "Annulled."

There was a collective gasp within the throne room.

"State your reason."

"I love another."

The resounding gasp was louder this time. To Hermione's surprise, the King turned his attention to Ron, who didn't look all that shocked—if anything, he seemed relieved by Hermione's request. "Have you nothing to say to your intended?" the King murmured.

"The choice belongs to the lady alone," Ron spoke, his voice cracking with nerves.

"How could you do this?" Queen Narcissa said suddenly, standing from her seat. "We took you from that wretched, disease-ridden village, swathed you in expensive fabrics, fed you—"

"Apologies, Your Grace," Hermione intervened. "But I believe the debt was repaid." Her gaze turned to Prince Draco, who had one hand clamped firmly over his left leg, where Hermione knew a memorable scar remained.

"You dare to interrupt the Queen?" King Lucius hissed suddenly. "You dare to speak over your betters when they have not finished addressing you?" the King turned his attention to Sir Viktor, who stood to the left of the throne. "Strike her."

Hermione's eyes met Viktor's, and she waited for the inevitable. After an eerily long silence, Viktor looked back at the King. "I vill not."

"I beg your pardon?" snapped Lucius. "You will do your duty as a royal knight and obey your King's command."

"I vill not," repeated Viktor stoically. He stepped down from the podium and took Hermione's side.

"I see," sneered King Lucius. "So, this is the one you love." He paused, running his tongue along his bottom lip. "Kill them both."

Just as the knights of the King's guard erupted into chaos, Viktor grabbed Hermione's hand and pulled her towards the double doors.

oOo

Viktor, having been a royal knight for many years, knew all the nooks and crannies to get out of the palace without detection. Within an hour, they were safely hidden in the slums of the capital, their royal garbs disposed of.

"I don't understand," Hermione whispered to Viktor through the dark gloom of their hiding place, an alcove down a narrow alley known as Thieves Walk. "You should have just hit me. I would have understood. You are loyal to the King—"

Viktor took Hermione's chin in his hand. "I am loyal to you, and you alone," he growled. "It has been that vay since I met you." He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to Hermione's lips.

"Marry me?" Hermione breathed when their lips broke apart.

Viktor grinned. "I thought I vas the one who vas supposed to ask that."

"Is that a yes?" Hermione murmured.

Viktor kissed her again. "Yes, my lady."


End file.
